How We Came To Be
by AngelNemo
Summary: Sequel to TDK. Meet Harleen Quinzel. Smart, cute and up until a few years ago, happily married. Now, she has tracked him down to Gotham and is intending to make him pay. There is nothing like a woman scorned. And The Joker is going to soon find out.
1. Chapter 1

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_This is my sequel to The Dark Knight. I've basically started the story with Harley looking back on her relationship with the Joker. Oh, and this chapter is based in Australia, because I believe it would be better if the Joker was from Australia and went to American where he arrived in Gotham. This basically just is about how Harley becomes the Jokers partner in crime once more. Enjoy._

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She was 21 when she met him. She was attending University, studying Psychiatry. He was in his final year, same as she. He was studying History. It was nothing at first. A few glances when he walked past. He noticed once and smiled at her. She blushed. Then, he asked her out for coffee. His hand brushed hers as he passed the cup to her. It was nice, they'd sat and talked. She told him she was into gymnastics as her spare time, she'd loved to read and she loved trips to the opera. Not that she could afford it at the moment. He'd told her he was into music, lots of classical with a few heavy metal bands such as Metallica mixed in. He liked psychology and wanted to study that, instead of history. When he didn't get the grade he didn't in math, he fell back onto history instead. It was nice; they felt at home in each others company. Her heart was pounding the whole time.

She asked him back to hers after that, and he browsed her extensive book collection, seemingly impressed. They kissed, and before she knew it, they were thrusting about on her bed. She didn't believe in "no sex before marriage". She felt that was old fashioned. They started dating after that. It was nice. They'd graduated, and soon after they moved in together. A small two bedroom house in a respectable neighbourhood. She enjoyed it. They had a lot of good times. She remembered how, once, he'd come home after a long day out, to find her lying on the table covered in whipped cream, a bowl of fresh strawberries lying next to her. His face when he saw her.

It wasn't all happy, nothing ever was. They'd had arguments, but they'd always make up, cuddling on the sofa watching the TV. She wasn't sure what he did for a living, but it brought in good money. He'd go away for a few days, and come back with a box of chocolates, or her favourite flowers, roses. He'd sweep her in his arms, kiss her softly and they'd have a romantic bedroom session. She found out what he did after a few months. He'd left a box under their bed. She looked in a saw it full of guns, and knives. Lots of them. And, strangely enough, some theatrical make up. When he came home she confronted him. They stood their distance, yelling at each other across the room. He was an assassin.

When she found out, she started dreading him going away on missions. She'd stand at the doorway, kiss him goodbye and then go upstairs and cry. She'd cry her heart out. That sick feeling in her stomach never went away the whole time her was gone. That feeling of not knowing if she'd ever see him again. It hurt. That was when she decided to go with him.

She'd stay at the hotel, lounging in the Jacuzzi, sipping champagne, while he went out to do whatever he had to do. She joined in on one, personal, mission once. They went in the house, him with his make-up on, her with a ninja style mask on, and together they shot the whole family dead. She had to admit, it feel good. Very good, and then before she knew it, they were thrusting away on the floor, rolling around in the spilt blood. She'd had several orgasms that night, and he came with that chilling laugh of his. Echoing of the walls. Oh, how she loved that laugh. She got a taste for killing after that, and not long after, she was an assassin also. The money was good, and she got to work besides her Puddin'.

They must have looked an ordinary couple to everyone else. Happy, maybe soon to start a family. He would have looked almost like a business man, if it wasn't for his scars. He'd never told her where he got them. She never asked. She didn't want to upset him, or put him into one of his little moods. He'd get violent them, and slap her. He'd call her awful names. She'd stand there, and take it. Never fighting back. Then while he went into the next room to let off steam, she'd let out a few tears. He'd always apologise afterwards, begging her to forgive him. Sometimes, when he was particularly bad, he'd cry.

Then, one day, they flew to America, for a weekend in Vegas. Her memory was hazy, but she'd remembered getting married in a casino on a spur-of-the-moment drunken haze. Waking up, next to him in the hotel room finding out they were now a married couple. Oh, those were the days. They came home, him carrying her in his arms. Instead of a huge party, they'd ordered pizza and watched a movie on the TV. He wasn't into big parties. She didn't think much of them either.

Then, it all changed. She'd fallen pregnant. He slapped her. Said it was her fault. When she looked back on it, it was her fault. She'd forgotten to take her pill. They decided together to have an abortion. He went with her that day. He looked smart, dressed all in black; black shirt, black tie, black waistcoat, black pants and black shoes. He'd even washed that dirty blonde hair for her. He often went days, sometimes week without showering, so to do this for her now, it meant something to her. She'd dressed in a 40's style black dress with cherries patterned over it, black footless leggings and red wedges. They looked respectable to everyone their. He'd held her hand whilst they waited.

They never spoke of it afterwards. She wanted to, God knows she did. Whenever she tried he'd scrunch up his face, put a hand to his forehead as if he had a headache. He'd tell her to shut up. He started going out at night, staying away for days. She started smoking. He despised smoking. He said it was for the weak. Then, one day, she went out shopping for some new shoes and he wasn't there. She looked everywhere. All his guns and knives were gone. So were his make up and a few clothes. That was the last time she ever saw him. Until now.

Here she was, Harleen Quinzel, driving down the motorway heading to Gotham city. It had taken her a while to track him down, but she did. And she wasn't happy. Without him, her mind started to rot; she began to get violent herself. She'd robbed several banks, shot several people. Always under the moniker Harley Quinn. She gritted her teeth and sped up. Her hands clutching hard at the steering wheel.

"Watch out Puddin'. I'm coming to get you." She said, and she'd looked into the car mirror. She looked at her face, powdered white. He eyes, one with red eye shadow, one with black. Her lips, one side colored with black lipstick, the other side red. She laughed hard. Oh yes, she was going to find her Puddin'.

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	2. Chapter 2

I forgot to mention, in TDK, The Joker tells Rachel about an ex-wife

_I forgot to mention, in TDK, The Joker tells Rachel about an ex-wife. I'm trying to make it so that Harley is the ex-wife he was talking about. Thank you for the reviews._

The Joker stared at the wall opposite him. Just stared and stared. He was sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall and tapping his hand on his knee. He had been in Arkham for three weeks now. His make-up had been forcefully removed and he had been strapped down and medicated with God knows what during his first week. He had been mocked by the guards and looked down upon by the nurses. When he first arrived, aside from scrubbing his face raw, they'd practically hosed him down, and scrubbed his hair clean, jeering whilst they did it. He had said nothing.

He said nothing when he was escorted to meal times where the other inmates called out to him. He said nothing when he was escorted to his Psychiatrist. He said nothing to her. In fact, today was a normal day of saying nothing, staring at the walls and allowing his brain to rot. He had lost all meaning of time, and couldn't remember whether it was day or night; the only clue being the small, barred window in the high corner of the room. He heard a rattling at the other side of the door, and two guards stepped in.

"Time for your Psychiatrist, clown." One of them said. A big, muscular man with a moustache. He took out a pair of handcuffs and tightened them on the Jokers wrists. Then, the other guard, who could be the first's twin, grabbed the Joker by the arm and led him out of his cell. The Joker looked at the moustached guard on his right arm, who noticed and sneered at the Joker. He smiled back slyly. They continued to lead him through the corridors, ignoring the shouts and scream coming from the cells. They stopped and the Joker was pulled into a small room. He was strapped down in a chair. A small, petite woman walked into the room swiftly. She wore a crisp, navy trouser suit and thick rimmed glasses. She sat down softly into the chair opposite him and smiled softly. The Joker instantly knew this woman was not his psychiatrist. '_Imposter!' _He though. The woman nodded at the guards who stepped outside of the room, shutting the door behind them.

The moment the guards had left the room, the woman slumped back and sighed. She stared straight at the man opposite her before lifting up her hand and pulling the brown wig of her head, letting her real hair tumble down. One half died red, one half died black. She took of her glasses and raised her eyebrows at the Joker, he just sat there and observed.

"How did you find me here?" he suddenly asked quietly, staring at the floor.

"I followed the trail of destruction the make up streaked clown left in his wake," Harley replied. She rubbed her eyes, which were clear of any make up. "But I don't think you should be the one asking the questions, hm?" She looked at The Joker snorted at her. Harley shifted in her seat, uncomfortable in the suit she took when she jumped the psychiatrist who was on her way to the room. There was silence again, except from the sound of the two breathing slowly.

"Why did you leave?" Harley asked quietly. She folded her arms around her waist and leaned forward. She received no answer. "Talk to me."

"You know why," The Joker replied. He stared at her stomach, Harley followed his gaze.

Harley sighed one more. "You never wanted to talk about it before, so why the sudden interest now?" She received no answer again. The two sat in silence for what seemed like five hours. Harley looked at the clock; their session was almost over already.

"Look, I know after everything that has happened…it'll be hard to go back to way things were," Harley started to explain. The Joker rolled his eyes at her, "But that doesn't mean we can't try. We had nine years together. You can't just through all that away."

"Can't I?" The Joker smiled at her. Harley shifted in her seat once more, and placed her hand in her jacket pocket. After a while, she took it out of her pocket and placed her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in what looked like defeat. Slowly, she rose from seat and without saying a word, placed her lips upon the Jokers softly. Their kiss became passionate and the Joker felt something move from her mouth to his, something hard and cold. Then something small and soft. Their session ended.

The guards could be heard coming back to take the Joker away. Harley quickly placed her wig back on. She looked at the Joker who looked back, and then he was hauled out of his seat and taken away from her. When they were gone, Harley covered her face with her hands, and walked back to the laundry room to get the real psychiatrist out.

Hen the guards locked the Joker back in his cell, his stood with his back to door and spat out the contents of his mouth. A small pair of keys and a note. He examined the keys. Five of them, like the kind that open prison doors. He unfolded the note, which was folded again and again into a small square no bigger than a thumbnail. He opened the scrap of paper which revealed some scrawled writing.

_Tonight. 01:30 AM. Use the keys. In the laundry room, the last dryer, there is a guards uniform. I'll be waiting in a black van._

The Joker smiled to himself, and sat back against the wall. Then, the thought struck him. He had no way of telling the time. He grunted and threw himself down onto the bed, his head falling onto the pillow. He felt something hard underneath it; when he lifted it up to see; there was a small digital watch there. He smiled once more and shook his head in disbelief. Then he waited.

He woke up with a jolt, his eyes scanning the dark room. The Joker cursed to himself, he must have fallen asleep. Reaching under his pillow, he took out the watch and noted the time. He sighed with relief. One in the morning. He should better start moving. He looked out the small letter box shaped window in his door, and then quietly tried each key in the door until he found a match. He slowly and quietly opened the door and ran softly down the corridors. He cursed to himself again, telling himself he should have found out where every room was first.

He ran past the room where Harley gave him his ticket to escape and stopped when he came to a door. There was a small Joker card attached with sticky tape. He took the card and looked inside the room. The laundry room. Making a mental note to give Harley a big hug he looked in the machines for a uniform. Something caught his eye; another Joker card. He took it and opened the dryer, taking out the uniform. Quickly, he changed into it, noting how it was a perfect fit. Putting the Arkham inmate uniform in a pile of others, he pulled the cap down low over his face and placed the keys in his pocket, noting another note. He pulled it out and examined it. Directions to the main office for Arkham staff. Now he really had to give Harley a hug.

He walked down the corridors swiftly, swiping the security card attached to the guards' belt through the doors. He passed a few other Arkham staff as he walked, but none of them stopped to notice him. Or if they did recognise him, they didn't stop him. He made it to the main office, swiping the security card once more and walked past the staff there. Then, he was out the doors. He thought to himself how easy that was. He walked down the driveway and out of the gates. He stopped and searched for the black van, which he saw behind some bushes. Smiling once more, he walked up and opened the door to the passengers' seat.

"What took you?" Harley asked, not looking at him. Instead she took another sip of her Starbucks hot chocolate. The Joker fastened his seat belt and looked at her. He noted her new appearance; all red and black. Her hair, shoulder length was tied into high pigtails and dyed one side black, one side red. Her outfit, a high collar long sleeved mesh shirt, one side red and one black. She was held in at the waist with an under bust PVC corset, which was one side red and one side black. She wore short PVC shorts, which were also one side red and one side black. Her long, slender legs, one covered in a red stocking, the other in a black. Finishing off her outfit, was her platforms heels, again one red and one black.

"Nice outfit." The Joker told her. He licked his lips.

"Thank you. Wish I could say the same for you, however." Harley replied, letting out a small laugh.

"Yeah, well, they took my suit. And my knives. And my make up." Joker told her, he clenched his teeth in anger at the "they", who Harley assumed was the Arkham staff.

She looked at him, and he looked back at her. "They're in the back." Harley told him. She turned the van on finally and drove. There was silence for a while, except the sound of Harley occasionally sipping at her drink.

"Are you gonna share that?" The Joker asked her, his voice riddled with sarcasm.

"You don't like hot chocolate. I got you your favourite," She tapped at another drink in the cup holders, "Plain old coffee."

"So, why'd you break me out?" The Joker asked her, sipping at his coffee.

"Because if you weren't insane when they put you in there, another few weeks and you would have been. I couldn't let that happen now, could I?" Harley explained. She lowered her voice, and muttered, "Puddin'" She said it softly, but the Joker still heard it. He placed his hand on top of hers on the steering wheel. After a few more minutes of driving, Harley parked the van and stepped out, the Joker did also. He waited while she opened the back door of the van and took out a box; no doubt with his belongings in it. He walked by her side and took her hand. She led him up several flights of stairs, before stopped and walking down the corridor of a building of flats. She opened the door, and the Joker followed her.

There was a small couch in the middle of the room. Harley collapsed down onto it; the Joker sat down by her. He felt her starting to shake, and pulled her so that she was resting on his chest. After a while, her shakes turned into small, high pitched sobs. He could feel the wetness of her tears through his shirt. He rubbed her back softly.

"Sh, sh, it's okay now, it's alright," The Joker comforted her, resting his head on hers. After a while, her sobs stopped and she fell into a deep sleep, still resting on his chest, her arms wrapped round his neck. Soon after he fell asleep too. They stayed that way all night, sleeping softly, holding onto each other as if they would never let go again.


	3. Chapter 3

_If you felt the Joker wasn't really as insane as he should be in the last chapter, that's due to him being doped up on all that medicine. I probably should have mentioned that before. Oops. Oh, and sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar errors to those who point them out. I get a little bit carried away and type too fast. Oh, and if you're wondering, I'm making it so that the Joker was 30 when he left and arrived in Gotham, so now he'll probably be around 31/32. He looks about that age in the movie anyway. Thank you once more for your lovely reviews! X_

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Things had to be sorted out this morning. No lovey-dovey reunions similar to last night. Now she would have it out with him. He may get violent, but she'd get violent back. She wouldn't let him push her around anymore. She wasn't the well-mannered shy girl-next-door type she used to be. Now, she was bordering on the line of emotionless killer.

She awoke to find herself still cuddled on his chest. Her neck hurt from the position she had been sat in, and her stomach felt sensitive from sleeping with a corset on. She got up gently, so as not to wake the Joker, and padded her way to the bathroom, where she stripped of all clothing and proceeded to have a quick shower. As she felt the warm soothing water trickle down her soft breasts, her thoughts began to race. They had a lot to do. First, she had to get rid of that van she stole last night to break her Puddin' out. Then, she wouldn't mind a spot of breakfast. She'd only been in Gotham for three days, and had gone without food since she got on the place to the USA. Also, she had to find out whose apartment she was in, and make sure stayed empty for her and her Puddin'.

Harley was too busy humming softly under breath, scrubbing hard at her hair with shampoo, that she didn't notice another figure enter the bathroom. The figure leant against the wall opposite the shower and waited silently. Harley finished washing all the soap from her hair, and turned the shower off. She reached from behind the shower curtain, searching for a towel. She felt one being passed to her, and she took it wrapped it round her body. It was big and soft for her small body, she felt as though she was being hugged tightly by a big hairy monster. She pulled the curtain back and stepped out, ignoring the Joker deliberately. She reached into the towel cupboard and pulled out a smaller towel, wrapping it tightly around her hair. The whole time she felt the Joker's gaze at the back of her head, but she never said a word, nor did she meet his eyes.

The Joker sighed inwardly to himself, knowing that he was going to have to put up with the silent treatment for a few hours. Harley walked out of the bathroom; her head help high confirming her reason for not talking. He waited a few moments, until a familiar feeling kicked in below his diaphragm; he had to pee. He did so, and upon finishing he moved back into the front room, empty aside from the couch where they had slept before, and a small TV. Harley was in the middle of choosing her outfit for the day, before finally settling on a red and black patterned PVC jumpsuit, which looked like a fashionable version of a prison jumpsuit. Only skin tight. The Joker watched her put it on, his eyes flickering over her matching Tigger and Winnie-The-Pooh bra and boy shorts. He always favoured those out of all her underwear, the pink flattered her skin.

Harley decided now would be the time to start talking, especially since he had been staring at her so much. She fiddled with her red and black combat boots, whilst arguing in her head as to whether to simply talk softly or attack him in the hope he'd hurt the way she had been the past 12 months. She decided on attack.

"You know…when I arrived in Gotham, I did a little research on you. To, ah, you know, find out why they…locked you up like that," Harley began, she stood up straight and folded her arms. "I have to say, your so called 'attempts' at plunging the city into a state of chaos, it was really rather…_pathetic_."

The Joker looked at her, and laughed. "Oh, you would know about pathetic, wouldn't you? Your whole existence is pathetic."

"I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks your view of anarchy is incredibly sad. I mean, I know I'm not the only one who thinks it. The whole city showed you when those boats never blew up." Harley took a deep breath. "Even our good friend the Batman must think it, seeing as he took the blame for those murders."

Harley hit a nerve. The Joker rushed over to her and knocked her to the floor with a thud. He held her wrists down and whispered into her ear, "At least I've done something with my life. I've changed people. You? You're nothing but a failure. You were a failure when I met you, you were a failure when I left, and you're a failure now. Sweet, little, innocent Harleen Quinzel. Too much of an airhead to stand up for herself."

"I am not one of your goons you can intimidate into obeying you. I'm…I'm your wife." Harley voice broke as she led uncomfortably underneath the Joker, "And I am not the same woman you left."

"Of course you are still the same woman. Otherwise you wouldn't have found me would you? You should have just rotted back in Australia where you belong." The Joker moved his hands to her throat and began to squeeze, "This, what I'm doing now, this…is for the big boys. Not for little girls like you." The Joker shook his head.

"If it's for such big boys, then how come I know that the mob where going to send someone to kill you in Arkham, huh?" Harley said, gasping for breath under the Joker's grip.

The Joker raised an eyebrow at what Harley said, then slowly started to laugh. Harley looked up at him, and where she would normally have a pleading look in her eyes, there was nothing. No emotion. The Joker looked deep into Harley's eyes, reading into her soul and mind. Harley was beginning to feel faint. There was only one way out. With all her might, she spat straight into the Joker's right eye, taking him by surprise. She pushed him off her, and rolled on top of him. She gasped for breath, filling her lungs up with much needed oxygen.

"How did you find that out?" The Joker asked from beneath her, seemingly stunned at her words.

"It wasn't hard. I went to some club and saw some mod-type peoples. I flirted with one of the younger ones who bought me a drink. I kinda overhead them talking whilst I was at with them." Harley explained. She tipped her head to one side, "I'm guessing you did something to annoy them?"

"You could say that." The Joker told her, impressed at her knowledge. Harley stood up, allowing the Joker to move also. The Joker looked around the apartment. "So, how long have you been in Gotham for?"

"Three days. I just found this apartment the way it was. I choose it at random, picked open the front door lock, expecting to kill whoever was in here. There was nobody. So I took over." Harley shrugged. "The next day I scoped Arkham looking for a way to get you out." She would have continued speaking; only the Joker suddenly backed her against the wall, his hand once again round her throat.

"If you ever speak to me like that, or spit at me again, I'll pull you apart limb from limb," The Joker told her quietly. He saw Harley's fear in her eyes. That was more like it. "Understood?" He asked. Harley nodded. The Joker released his grip and she sank to the floor, rubbing her neck. She would have a nasty bruise there in a few hours.

The Joker picked up the box containing his belongings and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door on Harley. She heard the door shut, and immediately closed her eyes shut tight, begging herself not to cry. She hadn't imagined it to be like this. She thought her would be soft and loving, the way they were in the beginning. He truly was a monster now. Whatever happened, whatever caused him to snap, it must have been horrible. She picked herself off the floor and sat down on the sofa, taking out her cell phone, she sent a quick message to a contact named "Amanda" before leaning back and shutting her eyes.

Looking back, she could see the signs that there was something wrong with her Puddin'. When they first met, there were no signs, but she could sense it. He had a presence about him, a dark one, as if he had something to hide. As time passed, little signs of cracking started to show; the mumblings, the neglected hygiene, staring into space, locking himself in the bathroom for hours. Why didn't she do something? She knew why, it was because she was scared. Scared there was something wrong with him. She didn't want to admit it. The Joker was right, she was spineless. She spent all her life running from her problems instead of facing them.

The bathroom door opened at last, and then she saw the Joker she saw on the news. Dressed in his purple suit, a face full of make up and side combed hair. Harley couldn't help but stare as he sat down next to her.

"Yes, I do have that effect on people. I'm just so great," The Joker smiled at her. He reached over at her, and Harley expected to be hit. Instead he simply shut her open mouth. She hadn't even realised it was open.

"We should…um, we should…that is, we need to see if there is anything on TV about your escape," Harley mumbled, avoiding his gaze once more. She reached over for the remote and turned to the Gotham news channels. Sure enough, there was reports of his escape.

"One of Gothams most notorious criminal masterminds, The Joker has escaped from Arkham less than three weeks after he was convicted," The news reporter spoke, "Officials are baffled as to how he managed this, as there is no sign of a forced entry or escape on the grounds of Arkham. Police believe an insider may be involved, which brings authorities to wonder whether the wanted vigilante Batman was in on the escape," Harley switched the TV off. She turned to the Joker.

"We need to get rid of the van. They may check the security cameras and trace the van back to us." She spoke softly. No reply. "Puddin'?"

"The Bat Man." The Joker spoke, his voice wavering with anger. "Yes, what do we do with him? What to do, what to do." The Jokers eyes glazed over, as if in deep thought. Harley knew from their argument before not to say anything. Suddenly, the Joker stood up and looked at her. "Right, let's get rid of that van then. Don't want to get sent back less than twenty four hours after I got out. That would be embarrassing." He grabbed hold of Harley's arm, pulling her to her feet.

"My guess is we torch it." Harley told her Puddin', whilst taking the keys from the kitchen counter. "Drive it somewhere quiet and torch it."

"I got a better idea." The Joker told her, as they walked out of the apartment, their heads down. Luckily, no one was about as it was still early in the morning. Most people were getting ready for work or eating breakfast with their families.

They got into the van and the Joker took the wheel. Without a word to Harley, he drove, seeming to know where he was going. After 10 minutes, they stopped at a gas station. There was nobody inside except the student boy at the cash register. Taking a gun from his pocket, and passing one to Harley, they entered the shop. The boy looked up from a magazine he was reading and immediately froze. He put his hands in the air.

"Take anything you want, dude. Just please don't hurt me. Please." He begged, his voice changing with adolescent hormones. The Joker walked up to him, and smiled. The boy began to shake with fear. Harley began browsing the candy for something to eat, when she heard a loud gunshot. She looked at the Joker who was smiling, and she saw the boy slumped over the counter.

"Was that really necessary?" She asked, taking bars of candy and putting them into her pockets. She'd regret pigging out later, but right now she was very hungry.

"I'm sending a message, Harley." The Joker told her, and began to pick up canisters of gasoline, and stepped outside to load them in the back of the van. Harley watched curiously, taking as many candy bars and cans of soda she could. The Joker came back into the shop, and took a pack of large black bin liners, a black ski mask, some planks of wood, some rope, and some black kitty-ear headbands and put them into the back of the van. He came back and moved behind the counter. "Harley, help me lift this fat kid into the back of the van. Now." He told her.

Harley grabbed the boys' legs, whilst the Joker took his arms; they threw the boys body into the back of the van, amongst the gasoline and stolen items. The Joker then grabbed Harleys arm and took her back into the shop. He stood directly in front of the security camera behind the counter, and wrapped his arms around Harley as he stood beside her. He then moved her and kissed her passionately for a few minutes, his hands sliding down to the top of her bottom. He then dragged Harley out of the shop and they drove off.

"Any reason for that display of fake love?" Harley asked, sipping on a cream soda.

"Because, when the store manager finds out the boy is gone, they will look at the security cameras. And I want them to know that I'm not working alone anymore." The Joker looked at Harley, who was obviously confused. He rubbed her chin playfully. "This, is our revenge on the world." He told her.

A few more minutes passed of driving, and they stopped outside the back parking lot of the Gotham MCU. Luckily, nobody was about, they were probably investigating at Arkham. They both stepped out and opened the back of the van. Whilst Harley busied herself taking out the gasoline and stolen items, the Joker moved the boys' body. He then began to take the black bin liners. He took one and put it on the boy in a crude imitation of a dress. He then grabbed another and turned it into a mock cape. He took the skin mask and put it on the boys' head. Finishing his work, he placed on the kitty-ear headband. Harley observed him.

"Oooooh. I get it. An imitation Batman!" She squealed, jumping up and down, clapping her hands in approval.

"That's right. Now, help me get the kid on the roof of the van." The Joker told her. Harley immediately ran to help, and together they took out the wood. The Joker took the rope and the planks of wood, and began to make a poor imitation of a crucifix. He tied it together with the rope, and Harley used the remainder to tie the boy to the crucifix. They then struggled to lift it onto the van roof. The Joker climbed onto the roof and stood the crucifix upright, holding it in upright and in place with some more wood at the bottom. He took a knife and stabbed a Joker card to the boys' forehead. He then jumped down, and he and Harley took the cans of gasoline, pouring them out in the van. The Joker took a match to the van, and watched in triumph and the whole van began to burn.

His mock Batman crucifix standing on top. He and Harley began to run off down the alleyways, as their message that Batman should burn was left in the MCU parking lot, for the police, the news stations and Batman himself to watch.

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	4. Chapter 4

_I've got nothing really to say about this chapter, except to read it! Oh, and come on people! Get those reviews in. Compared to the amount of hits this story is getting, the reviews are scarce. Even if it's just a smiley face, or pointing out a small error, I appreciate them! I take into account everything you guys say, so as to write the next chapter accordingly. Please?_

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Commissioner Gordon was working late again. Sat at his desk, he reviewed the gas station security footage once more. He winced as he watched how carelessly the Joker shot that innocent boy. They had been unable to identify him, he was burnt that badly. That poor boy, what could he say to his parents? Then, he watched, confused as the Joker and a mysterious woman in black and red returned to the shop, and embraced each other. Gordon picked up his pen and wrote down a small note, _Joker with wife/girlfriend?_ He sighed, and switched off the footage. By the time they had noticed the burning van in the parking lot, it was burning so wildly it took the fire team a good hour to put it out. But, the horror of watching that boy on top, crucified, as he burnt with the vehicle. Gordon was at a loss, he had no idea what the Joker was planning.

Harley sat on the couch, watching the TV. She flipped the channel to the news stations, and immediately noticed every single one was talking about their little "message" earlier. She turned the volume up, hoping the Joker could hear in the master bedroom.

"Gotham police officials believe the burning van and victim may be the result of the Joker, who escaped from Arkham Asylum less than two days ago. Security footage from the gas station where the victim was shot revealed that the Joker has a new accomplice, a female," The news reporter spoke, as still shots of her and The Joker embracing where shown on screen, "Police believe the woman may be romantically linked to the Joker, yet have no clues to her identity, but have come to the conclusion that she must have helped the Joker escape as the van was also the same van shown on Arkham security footage."

Harley smiled to herself. If only they knew! The Joker walked into the front room, and switched off the TV. He moved towards the kitchen, his back towards and leant over the counter. He took off his gloves and placed them on the counter. Harley looked over at him, and to his hands, which were red and sore.

"You're not wearing your ring." She told him, sadness clearly in her voice.

"I didn't think I'd see you ever again." The Joker sighed. "I never thought you'd track me down here."

"You sound disappointed that I came." Harley looked at him, her eyes slanted with sadness. Her hand moved to her left, twirling the ring on her finger. "I never took mine off." She raised her hand to show him, the ring shining in the sunlight.

The Joker snorted. "Figures. I bet you spent every night crying, just waiting for me to come back." He lips his lips, and raised his eyebrows, looking up to her.

"I thought you were dead!" She raised her voice slightly, "Two whole months, I never left the house! I was a mess, Puddin'." She had to breathe slowly, to stop herself from spilling over again. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

The Joker sighed, and rubbed his temples. "Did you ever think, that maybe I wanted you to think that? Hm? That maybe, I wanted to find another man, and be with him instead? I left you for a reason, only your stupid, childish mind can't seem to figure that out!"

"It's very cruel to leave someone who loves you so much, that they become a killer just to be with you. Do you know how strong I had to be, to put bullets through innocent peoples heads? I did it for you." Harley's voice was calm, but inside she was fuming. She just wanted to stand up, scream and shout and tear things down. All the anger from the past eighteen months weld up inside her. "You made me like this."

"I made you like that? Made you like what? You think you're so strong, just because you put a few bullets into a few heads, robbed a bank or two. But I know that deep down; you just wished it would all go away. I know that you would cry for hours afterwards, begging for forgiveness. I now that you would visit the gravestones of your victims with flowers! Begging them for forgiveness! And I know that you're not as smart as you like to think." The Joker paused, letting what he just said sink into Harley.

"I didn't have a choice. It was either join you, or let one of your enemies hunt me down to get at you." Harley told him, her hands were shaking with emotion.

"The thing about you, Harley, is that no matter how many times I make you see the truth, you'll always bury your head in the sand. All those times you would tell yourself that you were strong, you were lying to yourself. You were just wishing you could go back to being that sweet high school girl without any worries in the world. All those times you'd shut your eyes as you fucked your professor to get a better grade, you'd tell yourself it would all be over soon." The Joker looked at her, hard, noticing her eyes widen at the realisation that he knew what she'd done. "Well, guess what? You're not strong. You know what you are? You're a sheep. Capable of nothing but following others, doing as you're told. You became a killer to follow me, and you followed me here, in the hopes of some romantic reunion. But that isn't gonna happen, Harley."

"How did you know that?" Harley spoke quietly, defeat in her voice.

"How could I not know? You were never capable of getting more than a C grade, and for your grades to suddenly leap up to A grades overnight, well, something was going on." The Joker smiled at her, "At first I thought you were cheating, but then I saw the way those professors would look at you. Leering." He laughed at her, as she bowed her head in shame.

Harley could take no more. She threw herself at the Joker, scratching at his face as hard as she could. "Fuck you!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She slapped and hit as hard as she could. She was thrown of her feet and landed a few meters away from the Joker. She looked up at him, her vision filled with hate. A blinding force struck her across her head, once twice and a third time. She raised her arm up to defeat herself.

"You think you're so big, beating up someone smaller than you, huh?" Harley told the Joker as he looked down at her. "You may think you know so much about me, but you're forgetting I know about you also. What's stopping me from going to the press…or the police and telling them everything about you? Because I can…Heath." Harley spat his name out.

The Joker looked down at her. He knelt beside her and cupped her head in his hand. "Now you and I both know you won't do that." He spoke quietly.

Harley began to cry softly, nursing her wounds from her beating before. "Why do you hate me?" She asked.

"I don't hate you, Harley. You rarely enter my thoughts. But can't you see. I want to make you strong. But you won't allow me to." The Joker spoke. Harley struggled to make sense of this. She didn't understand, but didn't say anything.

The Joker pulled her back onto her feet, hugging her softly as she wept. He pushed her back and looked at her, holding her shoulders. "Would you like me to make you strong? To help you break free of your sheepish existence?" He asked her, looking in her eyes, a serious expression on his make up streaked face. Harley nodded.

"Which one of the mob wanted to kill me?" He asked her. "We'll pay him a visit."

"I don't know his name, I can't remember. He was tall, in his thirties and spoke with a foreign accent. British, maybe. Light brown hair, brown eyes, slightly tanned." Harley told him, as he began to pull weapons from the box. Harley placed a hand over her mouth and looked worried. The Joker did not notice.

"Puddin'? How will we get there? We have no transportation." Harley asked as they walked down into the streets.

"Watch and learn." The Joker told her. He took out his gun and walked into the middle of the road. A car screeched to a halt, the driver began to curse. He came out the car and froze. The Joker smiled, raised his gun and shot. He jumped into the drivers' seat. Harley stepped over the body and sat in the passengers' seat. The Joker looked at her, "See?" He said, as they drove off.

"It was a club called the Velvet Room. It was near a metro station." Harley told him. The Joker nodded in acknowledgement, seeming to know where he was going. Harley watched him as he drove, observing the flickering of his eyes, the occasional lip licking. She wished she knew what he was thinking. There was silence as they drove. Harley started to tap her hand on her knee, beating out a little tune. She was so distracted by this; she didn't notice they had stopped.

"This the place?" Joker asked her, nodding towards the club on the other side of the road.

"Yeah, this is it." Harley replied.

"Wait here; I'll go find a way in." The Joker told her, before he got out and shut the door. As he disappeared behind the building, Harley took out her phone. She checked for messages, before sighing. Quickly, she typed a new message, sending it to her contact known as "Amanda" once again. She put her phone away and slumped down in her seat. She closed her eyes for a few minutes. She heard a knocking on the car window and opened her eyes to see the Joker beckoning her to come. She got out quickly and followed the Joker round the back of the club.

The Joker took a small knife out of his pocket, and began picking at a lock on a back door. Harley stood, fascinated. A few moments later, and the door swung open slightly. The Joker grinned at Harley who was amazed at how quickly he had done it. He opened the door and walked in silently, Harley following him, her eyes wide with curiosity. It was dark; they were probably in a storage room. It was too dark for Harley to see, so she grabbed the Jokers hand, who led her until they found another door. They went through, and found themselves in a corridor of the club, where it was no longer dark.

"Which way now, Puddin'?" Harley asked quietly, looking around. She noted the pictures hung on the wall, mainly of people dressed in suits stood outside the club. The opening?

"Hmm, this way." The Joker told her, and walked down away from the storage room they had come out of. They walked quietly, until they heard a voice coming from a room. The voice was talking, but there was no reply. Harley assumed the voice was speaking on a phone. The Joker and Harley crept up to the slightly ajar door, listening to the man in the room. He had a British accent.

The man was silent on the phone, listening to the other end, when the Joker burst into the room. The man behind the desk on the phone froze from fear. Harley ran into the room also, avoiding the mans stare. The Joker walked up to the man and smiled.

"I believe you wanted me dead," The Joker spoke, leaning into the mans face. The man gulped. The Joker took the phone from the man, listening to the other person on the end, he placed the pone to his ear and spoke, "I'm sorry, your friend is in trouble at the moment. He'll have to call you back." The Joker hung up.

Harley walked over to the Joker, who know had his hand over the mans mouth. He reached into his pocket, taking out a gun and several knives. He placed the knives on the desk. He then took hold of the gun, and put it into the mans hand and pointed it to his forehead.

"Go on then, kill me." The Joker told him. The man didn't move.

"I – I'm sorry, please, please let me go…I have a wife!" The man stuttered, his hand shaking.

"Ah, ah, ah! Not before me and Harley here teach you a lesson first." The Joker smiled. "But don't worry, I won't kill you. Promise."

The man smiled nervously back, while the Joker took the gun back. He then grabbed a knife and slammed it into the man leg. The man hollered in pain, clutching at the knife, trying desperately to pull it out. The Joker grabbed another knife and stuck it straight through the mans hand, who screamed in pain once more. Tears began to course over his face, which was flushed with pain.

The Joker began to laugh hysterically as the man screamed and tried to pull out the knives. Harley laughed also, as she sat on the desk which her legs folded.

"Please, please…you said you wouldn't hurt me." The man begged to the Joker.

"I didn't say that. I said, I wouldn't kill you." The Joker laughed, pointing another knife at the man, who eyed it, his eyes frozen with fear.

"Why…why are you doing this?" The man spoke again, his voice coarse from his screams. Sweat began to trickle down his face.

The Joker didn't answer; instead he picked up the phone and dialled the number for Gotham police station. When it was answered, he placed the phone to the mans ear, signalling at him to speak.

"Please, please help me!!" The man yelled down the phone. The woman at the other end asked endless questions. The man then screamed as the Joker snapped two of his fingers. "The Joker! The Joker! Please, help me!!" The man yelled, just before the Joker put the phone down. The Joker looked at the man.

"I want you…to tell all your little buddies…that I am back. And then I have something else I want you to do for me when the police find you here. You can do that for me?" The Joker looked up through his greasy hair at the man. The man nodded.

The Joker smiled and threw another knife at the man, piercing his stomach. The mans screams echoed through the club. The Joker laughed once more.

"Now, for my grand finale. Now, I haven't done this before, so you get to be the lucky bastard and become the first person to be part of my next trick." The Joker explained coyly. He smiled at the man, showing his rotten teeth. The man looked at him, pleading with eyes. "Oh, and do me a favour. Don't scream." The Joker told the man, and then he lunged forward, his hand over the mans mouth, muffling his tortured screams. Harley watched in horror.

They left the club in silence. Harley was still shocked at what she saw. She avoided looking at the Joker, who was covered in blood. They went back to the apartment, where they spent the last few hours of the day in silence. Harley stood in the balcony, looking at the rest of Gotham while the Joker cleaned up in the bathroom. She reached into her handbag on the floor, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. She lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. She needed that. The Joker appeared from behind and plucked the cigarette from her lips, tossing it down below.

"Nicotine is bad for you." He told her.

Harley snorted. "Since when did you know what was good and what was bad?"

He moved into the apartment and sat on the couch. Harley arrived and switched the TV on. She looked at the clock. Six hours ago, she witnessed the most brutal act she could ever imagine her Puddn' was capable of. The news channel flickered on.

"When the police arrived minutes later, they were horrified to find that the mans eyes had been pulled out and placed on a dish on the desk. Their horror was escalated when they saw the words 'I can see you, Batman' painted in the mans blood next to the plate holding his eyes. Police Commissioner James Gordon was reluctant to comment, however they are stating this is yet another attack from the escaped psychopath, The Joker. Officials found another one of his trademark Joker cards placed on the plate." Harley watched the TV in front of her, sat next to her Puddin'. "While it is yet unknown as to why the Joker kept the man alive, it has been confirmed that he is not alone. The victim described a female accomplice similar to that involved in the murder committed yesterday."

The Joker smiled at the TV. Though they didn't know it yet, he was only getting warmed up.

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_Please, please tell me what you think! Please? Also, I was a little unsure as to have Harley call the Joker by his real name. I didn't want it to be Jack Napier, as that seems too "Batman 1989", and I didn't want to come up with a name, so I just used Heath Ledger's instead. Tell me what you think of that, hm?_

_Also, I'm not sure how often I update. As I've already completed this whole story, I was thinking about adding chapters every three of four days? Because every day seems a bit too quick, dontcha think? So, let me know how often you all would like this to be updated!_

_Thank you! X._


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry for such a late update! My computer sort of blew-up and then I had to go and buy a new one. A better one! And it's pink! Luckily I had all my files backed up on disks though. Thank you all for the feedback, and those of you who have added this to your alerts! You make me smile! _

_This chapter is mainly a filler however, but after this things will pick up at an incredibly speed. Read and review, opinions are always welcome!_

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Bruce Wayne sat on the couch. He sat and watched the television in front of him. He replayed the multiple news broadcasts discussing the Joker, his new female accomplice and what these seemingly random attacks could mean. His pressed his hands to his temples and massaged slowly. Wayne Manor had now been rebuilt, and the Batcave was better than ever. He had dared to hope just a little that things would improve. But no, the Joker was loose again and God only knew what damage he would inflict upon Batman this time. Bruce remembered everything that had happened, in such a small time. All that maniacs victims. Judge Surillo, Commissioner Loeb, Harvey Dent, Rachel. Bruce felt a small pang at remembering his childhood sweetheart. Rachel…

He was still deeply in thought when Alfred walked into the room carrying a tray of freshly brewed tea.

"Am I interrupting you in thought, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, setting the tray down on the small coffee table.

"No, no. Just thinking, remembering…The Joker is free again, Alfred."

"So I heard. And what will you be planning to do about this?" Alfred asked, as he poured Bruce some tea.

"I don't know. First, we have to find out what he's planning. So far these attacks seem random. But that's not the case. It's his new partner. The woman." Bruce sipped some tea, feeling it's warmth down his throat. Alfred sure did know how to make some damn good tea. "Alfred, I need you to find me as much information about this woman that you can find."

"Of course, Master Bruce. In the meantime, may I suggest that turn off those bloody recordings and focus on something else?" Alfred smile, and Bruce smiled back. With that, Alfred left the room leaving Bruce alone once more.

Bruce sighed and stood up, moving to the window. He looked out at the grounds below, his mind still racing. What was weird about the whole Joker escaping thing was that there were no signs of a struggle in his cell. No signs of a fight, and nobody had spotted anything unusual. The security cameras he managed to get hold of revealed nothing strange either. It was almost as if it was an insider job. After a few more moments of thinking, Bruce finished of his tea and went back to the Batcave.

Since Batman was no officially hated by the citizens of Gotham, he had to more careful which his investigations. Of course, Lucious understood and knew the truth. After the sonar machine was destroyed he returned to work and no more was spoken about it. He switched on several monitors, and the security tapes came to life once more. Bruce's eyes swivelled from one screen to another. A security guard was walking down one of the corridors, swinging a pair of keys from his fingers.

Bruce looked closely at the guard. He had studied this guard before, and there was something strange about him. The way he walked…with a slight limp, slightly hunched. It seemed familiar. Bruce smacked his hand against his head. Of course! The Joker! How could he be so stupid? So, now that Bruce knew how the Joker had gotten out so easily, he had to figure out where the uniform and keys came from. That was the hard part.

Bruce had gotten as much of the footage as he could, however there was some of it missing. Scenes from outside the laundry room had been unavailable. The footage had been removed and replaced with fuzzy static. This was definitely an insider job. He was sure of it. Bruce groaned, he knew this wasn't going to be easy. He cursed himself for believing it would be.

He heard footsteps approaching him from behind, and he turned to see Alfred holding a few sheets of paper.

"Find anything, Alfred?" Bruce asked, swivelling his chair to face his trust elder Butler.

"Not much, I'm afraid. She's almost as mysterious as the Joker." Alfred handed Bruce a few of the sheets of paper. Bruce scanned them quickly.

"So, we have a name; Harleen Quinzel. Age; thirty one. Studied Psychiatry at University. That's all?" Bruce looked up, his eyes wide with how little information they had.

"I'm afraid so, Master Bruce. Although I did manage to pull some medical records as well, if you're interested in them?" Alfred passed Bruce the remainder of the paper.

"No history of health problems, no history of mental illness," Bruce noticed a small section on the documents. "Had an abortion aged twenty eight. Father of the baby unknown. Well, at least we have something to work with." Bruce put the papers down on another pile, holding information on various members of the mob and their activities. "This is going to be a long day, Alfred." Bruce said softly.

"I can see that, Master Bruce. Anymore tea?" Alfred asked.

"Please. I'll need it." Bruce turned back to his computers and started working again.

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Harley woke up gently. She rubbed her eyes, noticing she was still wearing yesterdays make up. She looked over at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly noon. They had slept in. She sat up slightly, and looked next to her at the Joker. He was still asleep, spread out on his back. One hand was clutching loosely at the covers; the other was resting on his forehead. His mouth was slightly open and he flinched softly every minute or so. Harley was always amazed at how vulnerable he looked when he was asleep. She always wondered what he dreamt about to cause those flinches.

She stood up and padded to the living room to get a glass of water. Her mouth was dry and her voice was hoarse from last night. They'd had another argument. He had yelled at her a lot, slapped her many times. She yelled back, she pushed him. It was almost as if he was set of by anything these days; something she had, something she did. Sometimes just the way she looked at him.

She sipped gently, her lips still sore. After the argument, she had gone to bed and cried silently. Around an hour later he came to bed also. They had stayed at separate sides of the bed; a huge gap in between them for a few moments. The Joker moved silently, he placed his hand under her chin and softly rubbed. Harley sat up, turning the small lamp on. He was looking at her with his intent gaze. Then he kissed her hard and roughly on the lips. She had closed her eyes, moving her lips slowly. And then…nothing. He just went back to sleep.

Harley thought to herself as she rested against the kitchen counter. Did she want that? She didn't know. It wasn't the same; he wasn't the same anymore. She finished her water and placed the glass in the sink. She turned round to see the Joker standing in the middle of the room, his arms folded.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing." He replied, licking his lips whilst still looking at her. Not breaking eye contact.

"So, what happened last night was nothing was it?" Harley asked once more.

"No, no, no. That was definitely something." The Joker smiled, and scratched his head. His arm moved jerkily, as if it was cramped from the way he had slept.

"Why did you do that?" she asked him another question.

The Joker shrugged and licked his lips again. "You seemed like you needed cheering up."

"Well, after what you said to me, I was bound to be unhappy." Harley replied, she placed on hand on her hip. She hoped she didn't look small, or vulnerable. The Joker laughed softly. "What's so funny?" Harley raised her voice slightly. "You call me a dirty, worthless whore who's colder than a bag of frozen peas and I'm supposed to be what? Happy?"

"I only told you what you wanted to hear." The Joker replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on Harley, we both know you love it when I hurt you, when I say horrible things to you. Don't bother hiding it. I can see it in you eyes." The Joker smiled.

Harley turned her back to him, and wrapped her arms round her torso for some comfort. She hated this. She was supposed to be tough, strong and he was supposed to respect her for that. That's how she thought it would be. Instead he was breaking her down, making her feel worthless. Making her almost like him. She sniffed.

"What are we doing today, Puddin'?" Harley asked.

"What are we doing? Well, considering everything we've done over the past few days, it would be a shame to just hang out here, don't you think?" The Joker told her playfully. Harley knew what was coming next. She could sense it. "We need to get my message out. Our message. So, what are we doing today? It's obvious. We're going to hurt that Gordon."

Harley turned around, her mouth slightly open. She tired to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. The Joker looked at her, smiling. He knew what she was thinking.

"How will we do that, you wonder? Well, it's simple. We get those who matter the most to him. It worked with the Batman, with that Rachel girl."

"Who do we get then?" Harley meant for her voice to come out confidently, instead it was a mere mouse whisper.

"Who does he care about the most then? Hm? The Batman, no, no, we leave him for last. No, the people he cares about the most. His family." The Joker licked his lips once more before bursting into a fresh peel of laughter, his laughs bouncing off the wall, buzzing through Harleys head until she couldn't see anything but the laughter.

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_Please, please review! I appreaciate all your words, and take them into account for when I next update! Which will be faster next time, I promise! With my new pink computer! xxx_


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